


Nesting

by WindwiseWords



Series: Xenogen City [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Amalgamation of Universes, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mech Preg, Mentions of Sexual Interfacing, Mentions of Spark Sex, Pregnancy, Sleepy Cuddles, Transformer Sparklings, Transformers AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-14
Updated: 2016-10-14
Packaged: 2018-08-22 10:11:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8282161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WindwiseWords/pseuds/WindwiseWords
Summary: Set in an AU of my own creation in the oceanic city of Xenogen. War has passed, refugees flood into the secure city. Tailgate has some surprise for Cyclonus, and the purple warrior plays along.





	

Whatever the little mini had planned, Cyclonus decided to just go along with it this time. The usually cheerful aura radiating off Tailgate shifted to something more closed off and nervous as they walked toward their shared quarters and stepped inside.

            “Tailgate…” Cyclonus started, noticing his berth had been swamped in a multitude of fluffy things. Blankets, pillows, even a few odd false stuffed creatures. The eyes weirded him out, but Tailgate liked them so he never voiced the complaint.

            As of the last few weeks, things had settled down in the oceanic city of Xenogen. Cyclonus still didn’t understand how such peace had been achieved, but didn’t question it; he relaxed himself in the end of the long war.

            Tailgate, anything but relaxed, spent the last two weeks, six days, ten hours, and twelve minutes away from Cyclonus, part of which was mandatory for a comprehensive full body scan, but the other was plain avoidance. For a horrible part of those two weeks, Cyclonus thought his illness had returned and his beloved mini was dying. A simple message came in after he had asked that no, Tailgate was not dying, and he meant to stay away. Swerve kindly came over later to explain partly why Tailgate was away: work.

            Cyclonus threw himself into his own work, tasked with being a sparring partner for some of the older warriors. A new challenge for them to work against. Even Prime himself challenged Cyclonus on occasion, the two relishing a decent fight. On other days he worked recon, checking perimeters for threats or breaks in the tall cement-and-I-beam walls. Really it excused him to fly and fly alone. Despite the influx of bots, Cyclonus credited Prime for attempting to take care of the needs of every single citizen.

            Tailgate’s work varied greatly, a lack of skills and general weakness limiting what he could do. Monitor duty, clean up, and occasionally he was brought out of the city to tell his story to the human children. “They relate to his gentle personality,” Rung had explained. Cyclonus just grunted and accepted he could not be near his dear partner at all times.

            Tailgate let him over to the soft berth. “Close your eyes.” He demanded, but glanced away nervously. Cyclonus almost cracked a smile at the shy command but humored him and did as told.  The berth creaked softly, Tailgate climbing into the mountain of fluff and softness and getting himself situated.

            The one difference in his appearance when he came back was a sort of apron. Cyclonus raised a brow, questioning it, but Tailgate told him he’d explain later. He would explain everything. That worried Cyclonus but he passed it off as Tailgate over-exaggerating again.

            Once situated, Tailgate shrugged off the apron and pulled a thick mound of blankets over himself. A soft content sigh filled the room and then a moment of silence before his soft voice replaced the quiet.

            “Okay. You can open your eyes. And… And get in the berth?” He suggested weakly. The uneasiness that usually forced a chuckle from Cyclonus now compelled him to instantly respond. He moved fluidly, slipping into the mess of fluff and doing his best to not knock any off the berth. As he went to touch Tailgate the mini flinched away. “Not yet.”

            “Tailgate.” He demanded, eyes narrowing suspiciously. The mini was trying to hide something and Cyclonus hated when he hid things. Especially when they caused this much distress.

            Tailgate held in the flinch, and the whimper that tone usually drove out of him. “Just give me a few minutes Cyclonus.” He sounded exasperated, strained and tired. That caught Cyclonus off guard and he slowly lay on his side, staring at the white-and-blue back before him. Five minutes, then ten, then fifteen went by and with each second Cyclonus felt a stronger urge to break the request and hug him, hold him close to his chest and force the truth from him with stares and sharp words.

            But then his beloved partner stirred a bit, reaching his small hand back. The servo clicked a bit, stiff with anxiety.

            “Tailgate, what’s wrong?” The simple question asked many: Did Cyclonus do something wrong? Did Tailgate? Who hurt him, and after that, who do I have to destroy? A soft giggled from Tailgate brought Cyclonus right from the edge of brooding over the possibilities.

            “Just give me your hand. And promise you… You won’t yell at me. Not this time Cyclonus. Please.” Cyclonus raised a brow and put his hand in Tailgate’s but the mini didn’t bring it around his middle like he usually did, waiting for the promise.

            “I won’t yell at you.” Cyclonus rumbled, shuffling to gently nudge his face against the back of Tailgate’s body. Finally, _finally_ Tailgate slowly brought his arm over his torso and lay his hand poised flat on the berth. Cyclonus didn’t try to move it, though too far for his own liking.

            Tailgate took a shaky invent and squeezed his hand, looking for comfort as he started speaking. “I didn’t know how to tell you, Cyclonus.” Never good words, and the purple mech began the rumble of a growl but stopped as Tailgate continued. “I’m not good with speaking, and you still make me nervous sometimes.” The words stung but he already knew them to be true; Cyclonus scared people. Even those he could consider friend. “I did find out a while ago. Two weeks or so, back on my exam day. But I figured I could hide it. I guess I wanted to hide it forever. I didn’t think you’d want this.”

            “Tailgate.” Cyclonus murmured softly, trying to draw his hand closer, to draw him closer. The squeeze on his hand tightened.

            “I’m really not sure how to put this so I figured I’d just show you, but I didn’t want to show up like this at our door after two weeks. You don’t like surprises. I hoped you’d like this one, but I can tell you’re upset.” Tailgate’s voice wavered, threatening tears and that was the final straw for Cyclonus.

            “Whatever it is, Tailgate, I am here.” For you, he wanted to say, but the words eluded him just ever so slightly. Expression still plagued him, even with Tailgate. Especially when he worked himself into an internal panic. Despite the tight grip of the small servo on his he wrenched his hand free and curved the long talons over Tailgate’s narrow waist.

            Or what used to be a narrow waist. The hard plating split along the sides and as his claws worked around to feel more Tailgate stayed perfectly still, letting those deadly talons examine his new structure. Cyclonus made a soft sound of amazement, finding he could just feel protoskin under the plates that hadn’t been there before, along with the fact that there was a distinct bump under the plates bowing them slightly outwards.

            The tears that threatened him for a while now finally began to seep around the edge of his visor and into a blanket he buried into. No words to say, he just let Cyclonus manipulate and move to actually see what he was feeling. Tailgate felt the claws prickle along him before springing back as if touching something too hot. Disgust for sure, the mini convinced himself.

            “T-Tailgate? Why… How?” He questioned, knowing exactly _how_. His red eyes narrowed in a more rare display of pure hurt than anger. “You kept this from me.” A statement more than a question. Cyclonus looked away and then looked back, unable to keep his eyes off the rounded bump in Tailgate’s middle.

            “I figured you didn’t want them. And you wouldn’t want me. Wouldn’t want us.” Tailgate broke into full sobs and he clenched his fists. “You made a point of saying you didn’t _want_ sparklings! What was I supposed to think?” Not anger but pure pain soaked into Tailgate’s tone, breaking off another growl lodged in Cyclonus’ voice box.

            He _had_ said that, back when they were in space on a quest with so many others. When they were getting into battles every other day, and surrounded by bots they couldn’t get away from. When stealing a soft kiss in the washracks ended with Whirl going into the Infirmary for a while, and Cyclonus into the brig.

            Cyclonus’ head spun for a bit longer before he stopped the gentle touches and lay one large hand over the entirety of Tailgate’s slightly distended belly. He pulled him close, back-to-chest and kept his hand there while curling over him protectively. The sobs quieted down, but were still there.

            “I’m so _scared_ , Cyclonus.” The whisper was barely audible between the sniffling sobs and choppy vents.

            Cyclonus shushed him gently, and with building courage against his own fear, stroked over the bump a few times. “I am too.” He rumbled against the top of Tailgate’s head. “But I am also…” He thought of the appropriate word. “I am also excited.”

            The reality of the situation finally crashed down over Cyclonus. His beloved Tailgate was laying here sparked up with his, _his_ sparklings. And his beloved Tailgate thought that he wouldn’t want anything to do with them. He finally growled and the mini squeaked in fear.

            “I cannot believe you hid this from me. You really think I didn’t want them?” Tailgate sobbed and he could feel the mini’s glare but spoke before he could. “Tailgate, I didn’t want them on that insane ship, or in the middle of a war. That’s no place for sparklings to be raised.”

Tailgate tried to speak again but those clever claws were roaming again, stroking and massaging the strained metal and wires around the swell in his middle. Tailgate brought his own hands to rest over the swell and his vents hiccupped. “This city isn’t much better. Some dirtball of a planet, surrounded by organic life. It’s no Cybertron.” Tailgate managed a soft giggle between the calming sobs. “But its home now. And it’s safe and protected. You and I are safe and protected.”

            Tailgate carefully rolled over to face him, visor bright with a renewed hope. Cyclonus gave him a calm and pleased smile, hand refusing to leave the bulge. “I am honored that you are having my sparkling. If not a bit terrified.” Cyclonus admitted, only to make the mini laugh softly into one of his hands. Cyclonus chuckled with him and curled him close, pressing him with the utmost care against his torso. Tailgate squeaked and curved his fingers over the bump to protect it and let Cyclonus know when it was too close.

Metal to metal, Tailgate felt cooler than usual everywhere but the swell. The nest of soft blankets suddenly made more sense and with a few complications of claws going through blankets, Cyclonus pulled a pile of fluff over them both to keep warmth in.

“You should have told me the first day.” Cyclonus scolded very gently, but wanted his displeasure to be known. Rung would remind him never to go to bed angry or upset with Tailgate. Cyclonus didn’t understand the advice, but took it with a speck of salt.

“I know. I wanted to. Swerve said I should. Rung said I should. Ratchet said if I didn’t tell you when I started showing, he was going to.” Tailgate nestled into his chest. “I didn’t want that so I had to come back. I started much earlier.” He hid more into the chest plates and sighed. “Because it’s your sparkling, and you’re so much bigger than I am.”

Concern flashed in red eyes. “It won’t damage you will it?” Not that either of them would ever terminate the sparkling; Cyclonus wanted to know what he was up against. Tailgate, thankfully, shook his head. The concern died down and Cyclonus went back to rubbing and relaxing his little mate. “Did Ratchet tell you anything specific? Anything the sparkling needs?”

Tailgate thought a bit. “Ratchet said I need enriched energon. I’ve been getting it from Swerve, knows how to make it to recipe without the foul taste.” The little bot looked him in the optics before looking away shyly. “He said that, um, transfluid would also be good for me. And spark merging would be needed, for energy, or I’m going to get very tired.”

Cyclonus smirked and slipped his claws a bit lower, not intending to start anything right this moment but perhaps later. “I am willing to donate both as much as you need.” Tailgate squirmed and pushed at him half-heartedly.

“Cyclonus!” He whined a bit, pout evident in his voice. “Not right now. I am really tired.” His fingers smoothed over the swell again. “This is your fault.” Cyclonus eyed him questioningly but the giggle that followed made him chuckle with him.

“I’m sorry?” Cyclonus chuckled, leaning to nuzzle him. The idea had crossed him before, Tailgate swollen and big with his sparklings. But it was a dream; this felt like a dream. He stared at Tailgate until the mini squirmed a bit under his gaze and Cyclonus smirked again, leaning to press his lips near Tailgate’s audial sensors. “You look beautiful like this. And I cannot wait to see you even bigger.”

Close to dirty talk, Tailgate thought, but there was pure truth behind the statement. He squirmed and poked at him, then nestled against his chest. “Need recharge.” Tailgate demanded, and there was the sound of a yawning in-vent.

Cyclonus tucked him in close, bundling blankets around his back and Tailgate’s to keep heat in. Anything for his little sparked up mate. “Recharge well. I’ll keep watch until you fall asleep.” And despite the paranoia lingering in the statement, Tailgate found it comforting. Cyclonus defended his mate ferociously on a normal day; Tailgate wondered how many mechs he would pounce on for just looking at him now.

Tailgate fell slowly into a deep recharge, body, mind, and new little sparkling all content with the reunion to his mate.

            Cyclonus was left alone with the thoughts of his sparked mate, but felt content their relationship was stable enough for them to get through this. He felt recharge come slowly, mind begging him to stay awake and spot threats. But there were no threats deep in the heart of Xenogen, and no worries deep in the spark of Cyclonus. The combination of peace and self-tranquility lulled the purple warrior into a deep recharge alongside his mate, claws still wrapped over Tailgate’s middle.


End file.
